Five Sneezes
by honeyandvodka
Summary: Five sneezes. Not that anyone is counting. Least of all Castle. Or, he wouldn't be, if they were those cute little cat sneezes Kate usually does. But these are not cute little sneezes. These are Kate's actually-sick sneezes. A collection of five chapters, detailing the times Kate has been sick and needed someone to take care of her. A chapter a day (kinda!) keeps the doctor away.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I have a bit of weakness for sick/comfort fics, and I wrote these one shots when I was sick a few weeks ago. All five chapters are written and ready to go, I'll post close to one a day, depending on my internet access.

* * *

**April, 1989**

"She's coming round." Kate blinked and squeezed her eyes closed again, turning her head away from the sound. "Katie," continued the voice, and Kate realised it was her dad. He sounded far away. "Hey, Katie."

"It all went very well," an unfamiliar male voice said, and Kate blinked again, opening her eyes properly this time and looking around.

"Katie," her Mom said. "Hey, baby."

"Mommy?" she tried to say, but everything hurt, and she coughed.

"Don't try and talk," her Dad told her. "Just lay there a bit, and we'll get you something to drink, okay?"

"Mmm," Kate agreed, lying back down, and snuggling into her Mom.

"My brave girl," Johanna said, running her fingers through Kate's hair. "All done, Katie-bear. All done."

Kate nodded, looking around. She was back where she'd started, in the same room she'd been checked into this morning. "We're gonna take you home soon, Katie-bear," her Dad said, walking round to the other side of her bed. "Just waiting for you to wake up a little more, and then the nurse is going to come back, and check on you."

Kate nodded again, her eyes wide. It was all coming back to her, making a little more sense; her tonsils were gone, but her Mom and Dad were here, cuddled up to her. It didn't matter that her head was woozy and her throat was numb; they were all she needed.

* * *

"So, what do you want to do today, Katie?" Johanna asked, when her pyjama clad daughter shuffled into the living room.

Kate shrugged. "I don't know. I feel… yuck."

"I know, sweetheart," Johanna nodded. "I know. Come here."

Kate padded over to the couch, where Johanna was perched, and climbed up, snuggling in, her head against her mom's shoulder.

"We have a whole week for you to get better, Katie, before you go back to school."

"Are you going to be here every day?" Kate asked.

"Mmm-hmmm," Johanna nodded. " I told you. Every day. I took the whole week off work to spend with you, baby girl."

Kate squirmed. "Not a baby, Mom," she sulked.

"My big girl, then," Johanna amended. "So, what do you want to do?"

Kate shrugged. "I don't know. I don't feel right."

Johanna sighed. The anaesthetic had knocked her poor girl around all right, and the nine year old was moping around as though someone had died, retreating into herself and shuffling around the spacious apartment. "Stay here," she instructed her daughter. "It's you and me today, and you look like you need some jell-o, stat."

That got a giggle out of the girl, her hazel eyes shining green for a second. "Jell-o, Mom? Are you having some too?"

"Me?" Johanna teased. "What do you think I'm going to have? Your green jell-o, or my coffee?" Kate laughed for a second time, and Johanna relaxed. Katie was okay. "Now- you know what your Grandma used to let me do, when I was home sick?" she asked.

Kate shook her head. "Uh-uh."

"She used to let me watch TV. And you know what? I think that's exactly what you and I are going to do this afternoon as well. I think we should watch some Temptation Lane, let those crazy storylines keep us company for a while, okay?"

Johanna returned to the couch, handing Kate a bowl of jell-o, and shuddering as it bobbed around, green and slimy. She thought she should probably try and get some real food into her daughter too, but she'd just been in so much pain when she'd eaten last night, and they hadn't even made an attempt at breakfast this morning. Kate had merely pushed the oatmeal around her bowl restlessly, until Jim left for work and Johanna gave in, taking the bowl away and pushing a glass of juice in the nine year old's direction. "Drink this, at least," she'd said, not without a measure of despair in her voice, and Kate had complied, sad eyes looking up at her as she sipped from the glass.

"Come here," Johanna said again, and Kate curled up into her mother's arms. Johanna set her coffee back onto the table by the sofa, reaching for the remote, and turned the television on, the strains of the theme song filling the room. "Perfect timing," she smiled, as she hugged her daughter to her.

* * *

"Can I try your coffee?" Kate asked, and Johanna smiled. A week at home with her daughter had been perfect. The nine year old hadn't been a picnic the entire week, but Johanna had been more than happy to deal with a little moodiness. Her girl was getting older, and a little sass aside, she'd been happy to let her case work pile up to have this time to spend with Kate. It was an all too rare luxury, taking time off from work to just enjoy her daughter, and she smiled again, already looking forward to spending the summer at the cabin, not just with Kate this time, but with her husband too.

"Sure. But I'm going to make you your own, okay? Not as strong, because you probably won't like it."

"I'll like it," Kate assured her mother. "I know I will."

Johanna laughed, and took a mug out of the cupboard above the coffee machine. She carefully poured in an inch of the hot liquid, filling the rest of the mug with milk.

"What are you doing?" Jim asked, as he came into the kitchen. "Jo- don't you think she's a little young for a vice like caffeine?"

Johanna laughed. "Oh, hush, Jim. It's only a taste. And she probably won't even like it."

"I will," Kate repeated. "I know I will."

Jim shook his head, and Johanna rolled her eyes at her husband. "Seriously, Jim. She's fine." She showed him the mug she'd prepared. "I barely showed the coffee to all the milk in here."

He laughed, and pressed a kiss onto his wife's cheek, before ruffling Kate's hair. "Can't be too careful, Katie," he teased. "First it's a sip, then before you know it, you'll be a caffeine addict and a night owl, just like your Mom."

"I want to be," protested Kate. "I want to be like Mom."

Jim shrugged, laughing at Johanna. "Enjoy this," he told her. "It's not gonna last. When Katie's a teen-" he broke off and grinned, sitting down on one of the kitchen chairs and cuddling his daughter into his chest. "Never gonna happen, is it, Sweetie? You're never gonna have one of those wild-child phases everyone's been telling us about, right?"

Kate shook her head. "Uh-uh." She looked up at her Mom. "But can I try the coffee now, Mom?"

Johanna nodded, handing her daughter the mug and watching apprehensively as her daughter took a sip. "And? Is it everything you expected?" she teased.

Kate wrinkled her nose. "Mostly it just tastes like milk," she complained. "Nice milk- but still milk. Let me try yours, Mom. Just a sip. Please?" she begged.

Johanna shook her head and smirked, handing Kate her own mug. "You won't like it," she warned. "No one likes regular coffee on first go."

"Or beer, or wine, or spirits," Jim muttered, frowning at his wife again.

"Well, I do," Kate announced, her eyes wide over the mug as she swallowed down a mouthful of the warm liquid. "I love it."


	2. Chapter 2

**October, 2002**

She turned her key in the lock, scowling as it stuck. This sucked. "Hey," she called out softly as she wrestled with the door. Having gotten it open, she found herself facing a new dilemma- getting the damn thing shut again. She coughed as she shoved at it, swearing under her breath and hoping the hinge was going to hold. She would have to get someone out here to take a look, but where the money was going to come from, she didn't know. She certainly wasn't going to pay from her non existent bank balance, just because her father had decided to cut costs and sell their old apartment to live off savings while he drank himself to death.

She heard a noise from the living room; maybe a dull hello, maybe just the TV. Not that it mattered. She dumped her bag in her bedroom and made her way up the dark hall into the living room, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the light so she wouldn't trip on any of the boxes laying around.

"Hey," she said again, to the figure sprawled out on the couch.

Jim groaned, holding his hand in front of his eyes, shielding them from the light. "Katie?" he asked, and she nodded.

"Uh-huh. It's me, Dad."

Her father grimaced and closed his eyes.

Kate sighed. "Have you been drinking again?" she asked.

"What does it matter?" came her father's slurred reply, and she shrugged. What did it matter?

"Listen, do you have any Tylenol? Advil? Or anything?" she asked desperately

"Why? You sick or something?" Jim opened his eyes again, and sat up, regarding her through bloodshot eyes.

"Mmm," Kate groaned, sinking into the armchair opposite, and turning the sound down on the baseball game on the screen. "I feel like crap," she admitted.

Jim shrugged. "Well, I dunno. Try the bathroom cabinet?" he suggested, as he reached for his glass, and Kate sighed again, burying her face in her hands. "What's wrong with you?" he asked.

Kate shrugged, and before she could answer, she sneezed violently, then shivered. "Flu? At a guess? Half the academy is out with it.

"Academy," her father spat out, like it was a dirty word, and Kate cringed, staring at the TV for want of something else to look at. She couldn't wait to get out of here. This was only supposed to be temporary, moving into her father's place after she finished college and started at the academy. She shrugged. She'd think about it another time; right now she had to do something to dull the pounding at her temple.

* * *

"What are you doing here?" Her father's rough voice floated down at her, and she flinched, forcing an eyelid open.

"Huh?"

"Don't you have training, or whatever it is you're doing?"

"Ugh." Kate forced herself to sit up. "Yes. I do. Crap. What's the time?" she demanded. If Jim was up, that was a pretty good sign that she was running late- really late. What was she doing here anyway? She stretched out, her back answering with an angry pinch, as she realised she'd fallen asleep in the armchair last night. Damn. Her head was still thudding, she couldn't breathe out of her nose, and now she could barely move thanks to the springs in the chair; if only her father had woken her last night, and nudged her toward her own room. She glared at her father through watery eyes, and it didn't escape her notice that he was in the same clothes he'd been in last night. And the television was still on, the newscaster's voice a chipper hum that was doing her head no favours. Great. They'd both slept out here, she guessed.

"Ten," he said, offering her a hand. Kate grudgingly took it, allowing her dad to haul her up from the chair, and wincing as he did so.

Ten. Too late to make it today, but time issues aside, Kate thought she was probably too sick to even leave the apartment. Kate grimaced, running her hands through her hair. It had gotten too long; it was revolting and oily right now, and she wanted to cut it off. Next weekend, she promised herself. She would make an appointment and get it cropped right back; it was probably time to go back to her natural, darker, colour, as well. She shrugged, flinching as her dad leaned in to pat her shoulder awkwardly, his alcohol drenched breath an assault on her senses this morning.

Did he have to start drinking so early? And every day? She remembered being a kid; watching her dad filling her mom's wine glass first, then his own. Johanna would get loud, after a glass of wine, and Kate would giggle at her mom's volume. "Good thing she never has more than one glass," her dad would always say with a wink to Kate. Jim, on the other hand, was a cheery drunk, and on the occasions that she can remember him overindulging, she can only remember laughter. Her mom would tease him about the hangover he was sure to get, and Jim would laugh it off, telling her to lower her voice. A happy drunk. Nothing like the morose shell of a man he was now.

Kate shrugged him off, and stumbled over to the kitchenette, pulling a glass from above the sink and filling it from the faucet. She gulped it down, refilling the glass before shuffling down the hallway to the bathroom.

She pulled a washcloth from the closet, and ran it under the hot tap. Kate wiped it over her face, jumping when she caught sight of her reflection; pale, yesterday's make-up streaking across her cheeks. She ran the washcloth under the water again to rinse it out, lamenting the fact that the water just never got that hot in this place. She was freezing, suddenly, and she cursed out loud, surprising herself with the force and volume in her voice.

Kate turned the shower on, undressing slowly as she waited for the water to heat. She pulled her shirt over her head with heavy arms, and tugged her shoes and socks off. She reached for a Kleenex to blow her nose, cursing her father as her fingers touched the bottom of the empty box. Sighing, she tore off some toilet paper in place of a tissue. She stepped into the shower and leaned against the tiles, sinking down, unable to support her own weight anymore. She wanted a place with a tub. God, she wanted a tub. And, god, more than that, she wanted to live by herself; because living with her dad while he slowly killed himself? And ignored the fact that she was sick? In favour of indulging in the bottle? That just hurt too much.

**A/N: I kinda broke my own heart writing this one. Sorry for the sadness... :(**


	3. Chapter 3

** April, 2007**

"Kate?"

"In here," she called, and Will opened her bedroom door.

"What are you doing?" he asked. "I went by the precinct, and Esposito told me you'd taken off early."

Kate shrugged. "I was sick. I came home." She laughed, but it turned into a choking cough, and she sat up in bed, trying to steady herself. "The bed," she said, when she got her breath back. "It keeps moving. And the walls, too."

"Whoa," said Will, sitting on the bed next to her her. "You really are sick, huh? What happened?"

Kate shrugged, clutching a hand to her head. "I had a headache," she told him. "And a fever." She beamed at him, and her boyfriend cupped her face in his hand, looking at her properly for the first time.

"Kate? Your eyes- have you got any idea how dilated your pupils are?"

She shrugged. "Nuh-uh," she replied, collapsing in a fit of giggles.

"You're burning up," Will told her, resting his hand on her forehead. "I think you have the flu." He hesitated. "Seriously, though- what did you take?"

She made a face at him. "I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know?" Will frowned.

"I don't know," Kate repeated with a huff. "Just- that stuff over there, okay?" She waved a hand toward her dresser.

Will shuffled through the foil packs on the dresser. "Uh- Kate- couldn't you have just taken some Advil, or something? This is serious stuff here."

Kate shook her head. "Nope," she said. "No Advil. Didn't have any. What are you doing, anyway? Why are you here?"

"Apparently, I'm looking after my girlfriend who overdosed on the painkillers they gave me when I sprained my ankle in January. Why are my painkillers even here?"

"Oh my god, Will!" Kate exclaimed. "I don't know. Why? Why? Stop asking me questions!" She giggled again, and he let out an exasperated sigh.

"What?"

"You called me your girlfriend," she grinned. "Girl. Friend."

"Shit, Kate- you're- I think you're really high, or something."

Kate shook her head gleefully, then pitched forward again. "Nope. Just… shit. Will." His name came out as a moan. "Will- I feel like crap." She gave him a plaintive look.

"So I gather," he replied dryly. "Listen- I will get you some more water, and you can sleep this off, but I have to go- I'm on an important case. Actually, I only went by the precinct because we need a little NYPD cooperation, so if you can't help me, I'm going to have to go back there and talk to Montgomery without you-" Kate cut him off with another giggle, and he rolled his eyes.

"How did you even get in here, Will? You don't have my key."

Will shrugged. "Apparently when you're sick you think locking your door is optional." He frowned at her, and she glared.

"Do not."

Will ran his hand through his hair. "Look- I really have to go. I'm sorry you've got the flu- and I'm sorry you took my painkillers-" he winced. "And too many of them, at that. But I don't have time to stay here and nurse you through your drug trip, so you're going to-"

"Oh!" Kate interrupted him again. "Can I come? Help with the case?"

Will shook his head, kissing Kate lightly on the forehead before retreating. "'Fraid not," he told her, edging toward the door. "Lock the door after me, okay?"

* * *

Kate woke with a pounding in her head and a spinning that she couldn't quite explain. She turned her wrist, noting how heavy it was, to cast a glance at her watch. The numbers swam, and she blinked a few times, deducing that it was seven. The day came flooding back slowly; Montgomery sending her home when it became apparent she was in no shape to be at work. Esposito literally avoiding her by choosing to wait for the next elevator rather than share one with a germ-ridden Kate Beckett. The cab ride home had been interesting as she'd struggled to hold on to her lunch for the first three blocks, her head resting against the window for the last three blocks; and then she'd suffered the indignity of being woken by the driver when he'd pulled up outside her building.

And Will. Man. Kate buried her head in her hands as snatches of their conversation came back to her; had she really taken his painkillers? She supposed so. And if the sudden urgent need to vomit was anything to go by, she was not reacting well to them. She forced herself out of bed, begging her stomach to let her make it to the bathroom. Her legs were like jelly, but she made it through the en suite door. Opening the lid of the toilet was too much, however, and Kate emptied her stomach into the bath with a whimper.

Her stomach still cramping, she moaned as she turned on the faucet, cursing the flu she seemed to have picked up; if it was even the flu, she thought darkly. Probably the plague. As she washed the last traces of vomit away, she leaned her head back against the cool tiles, thoughts swimming.

Will had come by; not because she was sick, but because he needed her for a case. He hadn't stayed to see whether or not she was okay, even when he'd realised she'd overdone it on the medication. In a flash of panic another question occurred to her. Kate groaned when she realised that with the curtains drawn she didn't even know if it was seven in the morning, or seven at night.

Kate stumbled to her feet, back into her bedroom to find her cell phone. It was flashing on her nightstand, the screen telling her it was seven in the morning. Shit. She'd slept the night through and missed a call from Will at midnight. Her heart sank. Will hadn't even come to check on her after she missed his call?

She crawled back into bed, forcing her fingers to type out a message to Montgomery- not exactly protocol for calling in sick, but she doubted her ability to hold a decent conversation with the desk clerk right at the moment.

Kate sank back under the covers, tears prickling at her eyes. It had been five months since Will had asked her out. Five months since she'd dated anyone else, five months since she'd found herself hanging around, waiting for him to call, putting her own life and career on hold whenever he had a free moment to spend with her.

Well, five months was enough, she decided. She wasn't going to wait around for Will anymore. She wasn't going to answer his calls unless it suited her, wasn't going to skip out early on any of her own investigations to spend time with him anymore. Getting her head out of her mother's case and into a relationship had been good for her, and she really liked him. But Will wasn't the best at relationships either; Kate had held back, let him set the pace, but by doing so, she'd also let him hold back, put his career ahead of their relationship. No more, she decided. If this was going to work they needed to meet each other halfway. She reached for the water on the nightstand, sipping it slowly. She finished the glass, taking deep breaths to counter the way the room seemed to be spinning, before a bout of nausea hit her, and she tore the covers off, careening back to the bathroom.


	4. Chapter 4

**March, 2011**

"You're a doctor," she sighed.

"Babe, I'm a heart surgeon," her boyfriend sighed sympathetically. "Pretty sure that doesn't qualify me to hold your hand through the flu."

"Pretty sure it doesn't, either," she agreed, scowling, and he frowned at her.

"Kate. What do you want from me?"

"I want-" She stopped for a second. She wanted him to take care of her. Hold her hand, run a cool hand over her forehead. Mostly, though, she wanted him to want to do that, and she sighed. "Nothing. I don't want anything, Josh." She shrugged. "I have Tylenol. And water. And there's soup in the fridge, I'll probably heat that up for lunch."

"Okay." He looked relieved. "About your eyes."

"What about my eyes?" she shot back at him.

"They're- Kate, your eyes are bloodshot. Really bloodshot. I think you have pink-eye and that can be really contagious- I have to get going, but if you make it to a pharmacy today, ask for something for that. Some drops. Seriously."

Kate nodded. "Okay." She closed her eyes. Josh was right, there was something wrong; they were really scratchy. Ugh. She would have to hold off wearing eye make-up for a few days, and wash her make-up brushes before she used them again. She considered the growing pile of laundry in the bathroom. Great. Something else to add to her list of chores.

"I'm really sorry," Josh told her. "But I have surgery in an hour. So, I'm going to have to take off, babe." He headed for the door. She trailed after him, nodding. He opened the door to her apartment and stepped out in the hallway. Kate stepped toward him, expecting him to kiss her goodbye, but he just pecked her cheek, an apologetic look in his eyes. "I can't get sick too," he told her. "And pinkeye is the last thing I need before my flight next week- flying when you're sick is the worst."

Kate nodded, watching him make his way down the hallway until he turned to take the stairs rather than the elevator. She sighed. Yeah. Flying when you were sick was the worst. But she thought being home alone sick when your boyfriend was a doctor was pretty high up the list too. Not that she blamed him. Heart surgery trumped the flu and pinkeye; logically, she knew that.

She closed the door behind her, flipping the deadlock with a heavy heart. Kate doubted she was going to make it out of her apartment today, but maybe she could call Castle later, see if he wouldn't mind stopping by a pharmacy and bringing her something for her eyes. Later. She would do that later. Now, though, she would start with another couple of Tylenols, and a glass of water. Maybe it was time to catch up on some Temptation Lane; in spite of the case from the week before, her love for the show hadn't really dissipated

* * *

Kate opened her eyes a few hours later, finding herself still on the couch. The television was still on, but Temptation Lane was over. More to the point, the glare from the screen hurt her eyes, so she reached for the remote and switched it off before pulling herself up and closing all the curtains. The room was just too bright.

Kate hated being sick. Hated it. Hated the way her body was betraying her, not allowing her to go into work. She'd made it into the twelfth and as far as the homicide floor yesterday, but Montgomery had spotted her before she'd even flicked her computer on. "Beckett," he'd called. "Go. Home."

"What?" she'd protested, and he'd shrugged, fixing her with his look, and she'd known it was a lost cause.

"How did you even know I was sick?" she'd asked him grudgingly, as she stomped back toward the elevator, and he'd flashed her a smile.

"I know you, Beckett. Now- go home. You're no longer on call and I don't expect to see you back in here before Monday." She'd turned on her heel, mostly relieved that they had wrapped up their latest case, taking a perverse pleasure in sending the paperwork Ryan and Esposito's way.

Kate's eyes stung suddenly. She found herself wanting to blame the pinkeye, but as she dabbed at her cheek, she had to admit to herself that actual tears were making their way down her face. She hated this. The way feeling sick made her feel so vulnerable. The way that watching crappy daytime soaps could simultaneously lift her up and slay her.

She found herself wanting to call Castle. That had been her plan, earlier, to ask him to bring her something for her eyes. Kate reached over to her coffee table where she'd left her cell phone. The battery was dead. Of course. Good thing she wasn't on call, she guessed, forcing herself to stand and walk into her bedroom to plug the phone in beside her bed. She switched it on and scrolled through her contacts, pausing at Castle's name, but ultimately deciding not to press send. Things between them were always so complicated, and she didn't think she could handle complicated right now. Biting her lip, she dialled another number, holding the phone to her ear and listening to the call ring through. Once, twice. Three times. And voicemail. Damn. "Hey, Dad," she started. "It's me. Um… just give me a call when you get a chance." Kate hung up, sinking onto her bed. The eye drops would have to wait.

* * *

Kate could barely open her eyes when she woke up the next morning. She wondered idly whether she should call Josh again. He would be out of a long surgery, but still on call. She fumbled for her phone, and forced herself to dial without thinking about it.

"Body?"

Castle answered enthusiastically on the first ring, and Kate smiled. "Hey, Castle. No, no body, I just-" she paused, looking at her watch. It was early, really early. Too early to call Castle if there wasn't a murder. "Sorry," she apologised. "It's early. I'll let you go."

"Beckett" Castle sounded concerned. "What's wrong?"

"I'm sick," she admitted reluctantly. "And I just-" Kate paused again. "It's stupid. I'm okay. Really. Don't worry. It's early, go back to bed."

"I was up," he told her. "I haven't gone to bed- I was writing."

"Oh. I didn't mean to interrupt. I'm sorry."

"Kate." This time Castle sounded exasperated. "Stop apologising. I'm coming over. Now, what do you need?"

* * *

**A/N: Many thanks to the reviewers, favouriters and followers! FWIW, I don't hate either Josh or Will. I just think neither of them prioritised Beckett. I don't think Beckett made Josh a priority either- and we don't know enough about Will and Beckett to know much about their relationship. All we really know is she liked him, but not enough to go to Boston with him. Next chapter is all Caskett! :) **


	5. Chapter 5

**October 2012**

The look Ryan gave them was oddly knowing, and Castle winced. He couldn't- could he? No. No, they'd been careful, and if he knew, he would have said something. Right? Castle didn't know whether anyone was still on them, but he thought if Ryan knew something, he'd surely say so, if only to tip his hand in the pool. Or maybe he did know, and was biding his time. Either way, Castle glared at the man, getting nothing but a contrived innocent look in return.

"I'm just saying, man, take her home," Esposito said, his voice low, as they waited for Beckett to come back from the restroom. "She looks like hell. Montgomery used to be able to just give her a look, but Gates just doesn't do it the same way; she doesn't know that Beckett's sick, and she doesn't know that Beckett won't leave the precinct until she's sent home."

"Or taken home," Ryan added, nodding at Castle with that knowing look again.

"What's that?" asked Esposito loudly. "Elephants? No, my favourite animal is the jaguar."

The look Beckett gave him was one of disbelief. "Discussing your favourite animals, Espo?" she smirked, but her eyes were red and puffy and Castle sighed inwardly.

"Uh-huh." Esposito nodded, thin lipped, picking up one of the elephants from Beckett's desk. "_Yours_ is the elephant, right?"

Ryan wasn't even trying anymore, just backing away slowly in the hope that Beckett wouldn't engage.

"What's going on, guys?" Beckett asked. "I know you're not huddled around my desk to talk about elephants." She snatched the figurine back from Espo, who relinquished it with a scowl.

"Nope. We're-" Esposito cast a desperate glance at Castle, and started backing away too, following Ryan back to the break room.

"Seriously? Elephants? Your favourite animal? That's what you went with?" Castle saw Ryan smack Esposito, and he grinned, turning to Beckett once the boys were out of sight.

"So… you gonna let me take you home?" he tried, but Beckett glared at him, reaching for her coffee and bringing the cup to her lips and grimacing before returning it to her desk without taking a sip.

"Home? Why would I let you-" she lowered her voice, "take me home?"

Castle cocked his head at Kate, considering. He knew she had a stubborn streak, but he didn't know what she thought she was proving, by being here when she shouldn't be. He lowered his voice too. "Beckett- this may have escaped your attention- but you're sick." She sneezed in response, and he chuckled. "Case in point."

"Castle." Kate's voice took on a indulgent tone, as though spelling something out to a child. "That was just a sneeze. It's not always a sign of being sick." She looked around indignantly. "Sometimes it's a sign of… dust. In the air. And allergies."

"Uh-huh." Castle nodded. "Right. But you've sneezed five times since I got here. Five times. In less than ten minutes, Beckett."

"You're counting my sneezes now?" she asked, her eyebrows raised.

Castle shrugged. "Well- uh- yeah. I mean, if they'd been those cute little cat sneezes you usually do, I probably wouldn't have even noticed. But these sneezes-" Castled waved his finger at her chidingly. "Beckett- they weren't cute little cat sneezes."

"So now my sneezes are… what? Not cute? How is that a thing?" Beckett was on the verge of raising her voice again, and Castle crowded in, looking around surreptitiously. No way did he want to cross any lines now; not with Beckett sick and liable to yell at him in front of everyone, but Esposito was right, he needed to get her out of here.

"Oh, they're cute, Beckett. Very cute." He decided it was time to put his foot down. If he wasn't mistaken, Beckett was swaying where she stood, and the last thing he needed was for her to pass out and to have to actually carry her out of the precinct. She'd kill him. "Now- you coming?"

Beckett rolled her eyes and sighed- a drawn out huff that had Castle chuckling to himself. "Fine. But I'm not that sick, Castle, so if this is just a ploy..." She picked her jacket up of her chair and he breathed a sigh of relief as he ushered her toward the elevator.

"Tell Gates," he mouthed at Esposito, returning the thumbs up the man gave him, before turning back to Beckett to make sure she didn't change her mind and head back to her desk.

* * *

"I'll get you soup. And tea. Oh, and I can go to the pharmacy. Or we could go to my place. I have everything we need there. Then we wouldn't need to make any more stops, and I won't have to leave you alone. Right. We'll go to my place." Castle nodded and leaned forward. "Can we make a change- Broome and Crosby please."

The cab driver nodded, changing lanes in the same motion before running a red light. Kate's stomach lurched and she closed her eyes, trying her best to block Castle out. "Shhhh," she managed, and Castle winced, apparently hurt. Kate grimaced. Oops. She hadn't meant to push him away, exactly, but he'd been driving her crazy with his earlier monologue about herbal remedies, and their pros and cons. Seriously. She didn't care about herbal remedies; she wanted real drugs, and now.

By the time they made it to the loft, Kate was almost ready to admit defeat. She may have gone into the precinct an hour ago with grand intentions of pushing through the day, but her world was suddenly spinning as Castle led her into the building, propelling her into the elevator, and then into his apartment. She let him guide her, exhausted all of a sudden.

"I'm not sick," she insisted again, not sure why she was lying; her heart was pounding a mile a minute and standing was becoming an issue.

"Right," Castle placated, leading her to the sofa and sitting her down. She sank into the cushions gracelessly. "I know. You're not sick. You're just... pale and clammy." He took her hand and swore, shaking his head in exasperation. "Shit, Beckett. You're _really _clammy, and you're burning up. You need to be in bed."

Kate shrugged, listless now. "Not moving again, Castle," she scowled at him, punctuating her statement with another sneeze.

He looked at her a moment, considering, and for a second she thought he was going to drop it. Instead, he leaned down, scooped her off the couch as though she was light as a feather, and carried her through his office into his bedroom, putting her down on his bed gently.

"Ugh," she groaned at him, and he smiled sympathetically.

"I know, Beckett," he told her. "Just let me take care of you, okay?"

He kissed her on the forehead, and headed into his en suite bathroom, casting another anxious look at her.

He returned with a glass of water and Tylenol, and he pushed two of the capsules out of their foil packaging, handing then to her with a wry smile. "We need to get your fever down," Castle told her, brushing his lips against her cheek in a gesture that moved Beckett, even in her feverish state. She could imagine him fussing over a sick Alexis, and she let her mind run away from her for a moment as she imagined how amazing he would be with their children. _Shit._ Did she really just think that?

She swallowed the Tylenol down, chasing the pills with a gulp of water that her stomach immediately threatened to bring up again. She swallowed desperately, fighting the sudden urge to vomit and squeezing her eyes shut as her stomach slowly calmed.

"Alexis doesn't like taking pills either," Castle said, mistaking her shudder for a dislike of swallowing the capsules, and she shrugged, not bothering to correct him, hoping her stomach would settle.

Castle lay down beside her, on top of the covers, and ran his fingers through her hair. His hand was cool as he stroked her forehead and she snuggled into his touch before biting her lip and pulling back. "Don't you have stuff to do?"

"What do you mean?" he asked. "Like what? Where else would I be?"

Kate shifted uncomfortably. "I don't know. Writing? Whatever you do when I'm not here?"

Castle sat up, eyeing her warily. "Okay, Beckett, I'm giving you a free pass because you're sick, but what do you mean by 'whatever I do when you're not here'?"

She shrugged, groaning again. Shit. She'd pissed him off again. Or hurt him. She didn't know which. "I don't know Castle. I don't know. I don't mean anything. I mean- I'm sick."

Castle nodded. "Agreed. You are sick. Nice to see you finally admitting it."

Kate shook her head. "I just meant- you have a day off from the precinct now too. I think I'm just going to sleep for a bit. You don't need to waste _your_ whole day taking care of me."

Castle frowned. "What's this all about, Kate? Hasn't anyone ever taken care of you when you're sick before?" He sounded almost annoyed, and Kate winced. It wasn't like she didn't want him to take care of her, but she didn't think it was fair of her to expect that of him.

"Sure. When I was little. But- I'm an adult. I can take care of myself."

"Just because you can doesn't mean you should have to," Castle replied, standing up.

Kate sighed. Great. Now he _was_ leaving. She hadn't meant to drive him away. "Uh, where are you going?" Kate frowned. "I thought you wanted to take care of me."

Castle shook his head. "I am taking care of you." He leaned down over Kate and unbuttoned her jeans. He slid the zip open and she glared at him.

"Sex is not taking care of me, Castle." Kate grimaced, and Castle chuckled.

"You need to sleep, Kate. No jeans, no shirt. I have a sleep shirt of yours here." He slid her jeans off, and pulled her shirt over her head, before stepping into the walk in closet and finding her a shirt to sleep in.

He helped her into the shirt and stripped his own jeans and shirt off, leaving only his boxers. "Still not having sex with you," Kate mumbled and Castle grinned.

"Still not trying," he assured her, climbing under the covers with her and pulling Kate close. She sighed and lay her head on his broad chest. "And for the record- I _could_ go write. Or-" he shrugged, resigned to her unfortunate phrasing, "Whatever else I do when you're not here. But I don't want to. I want to be here with you. Look after you. You know- stroke your forehead until you fall asleep."

Kate nodded. She felt herself drifting off, Castle's hand cool on her arm and she smiled. "Thanks, Castle."

When Kate woke that afternoon her mouth was dry and her head was heavy and thick. She sat up, coughing, and looked around; the blinds were open and it was still light out. She reached over to the night stand, forcing down some more of the water Castle had left there for her, before reaching for her watch. Four in the afternoon. Kate didn't remember taking it off, so Castle must have done it once she'd fallen asleep.

Kate swung her legs clumsily over the side of the bed and made her way into the en suite bathroom unsteadily, sinking onto the tiles. Castle wasn't wrong; she really was sick and she felt ready to pass out. "Castle," she called weakly, and he appeared in the doorway.

"Kate? You okay?" Kate shook her head. She knew she'd be embarrassed tomorrow, but right now she didn't care; she didn't want to be alone. She threw up into the toilet unceremoniously, and Castle was there instantly, holding her hair out of the way and rubbing her back in a circular motion as she heaved over the toilet. "Oh, Kate," he said, but the words sounded thick and far away, and she kneeled her head down between her legs, trying not to faint.

When she finally stood up, Castle handed her a toothbrush, paste already on it, and Kate scrubbed her teeth, spitting into the sink and then letting Castle take her back to bed.

* * *

The next time Kate really stirred was morning. Castle stood over her in the same boxers he'd stripped down to the day before, his hand on her forehead, checking for fever. "Where did you sleep?" she asked, confused. His half of the bed was cold.

"After you fell asleep I sacked out on the sofa," he told her. "You were tossing and turning, figured I wouldn't be doing you any favours by staying here."

"But you have a guest room upstairs," Kate protested. "One of those beds would have been much more comfortable, right?"

"More comfortable, sure, but I wanted to be close in case you needed me." Kate took a moment to duck her head, blushing. Castle smiled, and pressed a kiss against her warm cheek. "How are you feeling?"

Kate considered. "Better, I think. Not great, but better." She smiled. Castle was taking care of her. That felt pretty good. "My stomach is much more settled. I'm hungry. And I think I'm ready for coffee."

* * *

A/N: Thanks so much for reading! You'll find the epilogue on my profile page as a separate story. Expect happy, fluffy Beckett and Castle!


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